


You Were Made For Me

by starlight_starbright



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Birthdays, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes is good with Kids, Elevator Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fireworks, Homophobia, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Steve Wants Revenge, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Top Bucky, Training, True Love, breath play, taking it slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5455238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_starbright/pseuds/starlight_starbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They deserve that. </p><p>To be together, to be happy. After seventy years of ice and loneliness and anger and abuse and hurt and wars, they deserve that much. And when Steve looks at Bucky, he sees his whole world. And when Bucky kisses him, Steve has finally found his place in this century—next to Bucky, like it's always been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Made For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Well . . . this just kind of happened. Enjoy it!
> 
> Title from Anberlin's "You Belong Here"

Steve is excited. He can't help it. 

Ever since the helicarriers and the battle over the Potomac, Steve has been on edge. And that was two years ago.

A year after the Potomac, Steve and Sam found Bucky. And a week after that, SHIELD (aka Nick Fury) took it upon themselves (himself) to lock Bucky up in a secure facility to track his progress in spite of Steve and the Avengers advising otherwise. Steve got to visit twice a week, but it was never enough. It was never enough to only see Bucky two hours a week when he was literally ten minutes from Avengers tower.  

He had to watch Bucky sit on his bed, staring blankly into space while Steve talked to him, told him stories from before and after the war. Tell him stories about his friends, about the missions he had been on—staying away from topics concerning Hydra. He told Bucky about cell phones and the new president and how he is the first black man to win the presidential election. He told Bucky about the Cold War and Vietnam and the war in Iraq. He told Bucky basically anything he could think of because it seemed to relax his friend when he talked. 

It was basically torture for Steve—not being able to touch, to feel that Bucky really was here—but Bucky was getting the help he needed. He still will be. He spent eleven months in that place with only his therapists to talk to—and Steve, twice a week—and now he's out and only has to see his therapist once a week. And he'll have to see Tony and Bruce once a month for routine maintenance on his arm and a full physical. But he gets his own room—with windows!—and finally, he gets some privacy.  

One of Fury's conditions for releasing Bucky was that he go to live in Avengers tower with the rest of them. That he live on the same floor with Steve. And Steve is hoping that won't be so bad for Bucky. 

He remembers. Everything. He just doesn't like to talk about it. He knows Steve, he knows they're best friends, and Steve is hoping Bucky won't hate to live with him again. Because this time around, Steve gets to take care of Bucky. 

Natasha has been walking him through what to expect. She went through this, after all. Most of her coaching came when Steve would go see Bucky at the facility. When Bucky was at his worst, his most defensive. Now, Natasha says that Steve is going to need to give Bucky space. 

"Let him come to you. If you can see something is bothering him, you can ask, but don't be offended when he doesn't want to talk about it. He'll tell you when he's ready." They're eating take out for lunch in Steve's floor at Avengers tower, and Steve is kind of freaking out. "Be as positive as possible, but try not to be annoying about it. He's going to have bad days, and that's to be expected. They're not a setback, just . . . some days, you don't want to remember all that you've lost and all that you could have had." 

"I know that part," Steve cuts in. "I dealt with that. Still am, really. It's hard, around him." There's a little grunt of acknowledgment from the redhead, and Steve smiles. 

"Let him see that. If he thinks you've got all your shit together, he'll never open up to you. But if he can see that you're still struggling, too, and that you're in this together, that will ground him." Nodding, Steve throws his chopsticks in the empty box and leans back, scrubbing a hand over his face.  

"So basically I need to show him that I'm here, if he eventually wants to talk, and that I don't really have myself together, and that that's okay?" 

"A plus!" Natasha exclaims, throwing her hands up. "You're ready. Also, Pepper put ten grand on your credit card." Steve blanches, but Natasha continues before he can say anything. "Go buy him a new wardrobe and customise this place! Bucky will feel more at home if he's chosen his own clothes and how his room looks. It'll give him a sense of control that Hydra never gave him."

"That's just . . ." Steve can't even image that much money. He'd been poor for so long, just scraping enough together for food and heat. But ten grand?

"So much money? Not really. Not for Tony Stark." Natasha pushes away from the table and throws away all of them empty boxes. "You don't have to do it today. But when he's ready, you can take him out." She stops in front of him and looks up. "I know you're in love with him," she says, taking Steve completely off guard.  

"W-what? I mean . . ." Steve splutters, at a loss for words. 

"I never bought the whole Peggy's picture in your compass thing during the war," she continues. "The way you care about him, the way you fight for him and went and searched for him . . . can only be love. I assume it was mutual?" And Steve's shoulders sag. Because it was.

"Yeah," he says, looking down. 

"He'll probably be confused about it for a while. He'll be trying to fit together the pieces of Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier and trying to forge a new person out of it. He won't be exactly the same—I know I wasn't—but he's still there." She looks at him with such sadness, such compassion, that Steve has no words but, 

"Thank you." 

"It'll be okay. And I'm gonna go. He's probably on his way up now and seeing me will confuse him." Steve nods and follows her out, trying to keep his face blank. He's going to need to get used to that—trying not to show when things surprise him or upset him, especially around Bucky. 

"Thank you," he tells Natasha again, and she hugs him tight. 

"You'll do fine," she replies, stepping back. "After all, you're Captain America!" Steve laughs when she salutes him, and then the elevator opens. 

And Bucky is in it. 

"See you later, Steve," she says, getting into the elevator as Bucky comes out. 

"Bye, Nat." And now Steve feels awkward because Bucky's just standing there, looking smaller than Steve has ever seen him look. "Let me show you your room," Steve murmurs, reaching out like he's going to take Bucky's hand, but then pulling back and walking further into the room. He can hear Bucky following him, and let's out a sigh of relief.  

They pass the bathroom and Steve points it out, and then finally come to Bucky's room. It's bare—only a bed and a dresser, with a closet on the far wall, and a window. 

"Um, so this is your room," Steve says. "But you can think of this whole place as your home. Because it is." Bucky just looks at him, so Steve continues. "I put some of my clothes in there for you until we can get you some of your own. They may be a little big, but . . ." And Steve stops talking because Bucky has walked into the room and is looking around. "There are no cameras or bugs or anything, I already checked and ripped out the ones Fury put in." Why is this so painfully awkward? Maybe because Bucky hasn't said a word to him. Yeah, that. "JARVIS is wired through the entire building, though. If you have questions about anything or you need help with something or there's an emergency, you can tell him and he'll help you if I'm not around."  

Steve isn't so sure Bucky's listening anymore. He's on the bed, facing the window, just sitting there. It's kind of unnerving, but this is Bucky. It's Bucky. 

"I'll leave you to shower or whatever. I'll just be in the other room. Come get me if you need anything." And Steve can't tell if Bucky nodded or if he even heard him, but he leaves anyway. He has to. To give Bucky the space he needs to get used to a new place. 

So he goes back into the living room and plops down on the couch, sketch pad in hand. He's been working on a portrait of Natasha and he's almost done, just has to finish the shading. 

"Is that your girlfriend?" Bucky asks from behind him, making Steve jump. "Sorry," Bucky says, and Steve turns around. His hair is wet and tied back, and he's shaved. He looks more tired than Steve's ever seen him. He looks like a window that's been broken and tentatively pieced back together.  

He's beautiful.  

"No, it's fine. And no, she's just a friend." Bucky thinking Natasha is Steve's girlfriend, while a huge compliment, also hurts.  

Because Steve has been gone on Bucky since they were seven years old and he knows it. 

Knew it.  

"Oh," Bucky says, sitting down next to Steve so that they're almost touching. Steve wants to ask why, but he doesn't, instead going back to his drawing. Bucky just watches quietly until it's too dark for Steve to continue without a light on.  

"Dinner?" Steve asks, putting the sketchpad down on the coffee table. 

"Pizza?" Bucky asks, hopeful like a child on Christmas morning. 

"Yeah, Buck. Whatever you want." And Steve smiles at Bucky and pulls out his phone. He'd eat pizza for the rest of his life if it made this man happy. 

"No olives!" Bucky calls, and Steve laughs. Steve knows Bucky hates olives. He always has. By the time Steve gets off the phone, Bucky has found the history channel on TV and they're running a special about Captain America. 

"Are we really watching this?" Steve asks. 

"Of course," Bucky says. "I missed so much already, might as well start from the beginning." It's said almost bitterly, his mouth set in a hard line. Steve turns his entire body so that its facing Bucky. 

"This wasn't our beginning," Steve says quietly. 

"I know, I—"

"I don't know what you remember," Steve continues, ignoring Bucky's protests completely. "But this wasn't how we started. I met you when I was six years old in an orphanage because my mother had just died. And we were friends cause you stood up for me. This friendship was built on something real, not something science made." It stings more than it should, to hear Bucky say that the serum was their beginning. 

"Steve," Bucky murmurs, scooting closer. "That's not what I meant and you know it. I remember everything before the war crystal clear. It's . . . everything after is blurry. I remember, but I don't remember specifics. I remember you coming to get me . . . in Zola's lab. And that you were so much bigger than I remembered that I thought it was another hallucination. I remember Peggy and that for whatever reason I thought she was taking you away from me. I remember that Dugan snored so loud we had to use cotton balls from the med kit as earplugs. But I don't remember the battles or our victories. I don't remember exactly what happened. And I want to. I want to know all of it." Bucky takes Steve's hand in his flesh one, leaving the metal hand by his side. "I want to know all of you."  

And what the fuck does Steve say to that? _I want to know all of you_. Sounds a bit like _I love you_. 

"I . . . I shouldn't have said anything," Bucky mutters, backtracking now. "I'm a murderer, an assassin. I could kill you if I have a nightmare! I can't . . . I shouldn't . . . I should go. I can't . . . I need to go." And Bucky gets up, heading for the door, and Steve can't just let him leave. 

"I love you!" he blurts, standing up. Bucky freezes where he is, shoulders tense, hands balled into fists. "I've loved you since I was seven years old. I've loved you through two lifetimes." Steve walks forward cautiously, not wanting to scare the brunet any more than he already is. And he's not going to bring up that Bucky loved him, too. He wants Bucky to make his own decisions without bias from another lifetime. "I love you so much it hurts. It killed me only being able to see you twice a week. I wanted to be there for you, to be . . . _everything_. I want to be your everything. And I want to know all of you, too. Even the parts of you that you don't like." And Steve reaches out to touch him, but Bucky flinches away. That hurts more than Steve can put into words. 

"Your food has arrived, Captain Rogers," JARVIS says, spooking Bucky even further, and Steve sighs.  

"Buck . . ." he murmurs, but the brunet pushes past him.  

"I'll be in my room," Bucky says roughly, not even looking at Steve. And Steve has no choice but to watch him go down the hall, Steve heaves a sigh and goes down to the main entrance. He gives the delivery woman thirty dollars and gives in when she asks him to sign something for her. The only thing she has with her is the merchant copy of the receipt, so he signs it and thanks her wearily, getting back into the elevator. 

He takes the pizza to the kitchen table and sets the box down, no longer feeling like eating. On his way to the bathroom, he notices that Bucky's door is shut and probably locked, and sighs heavily. He thought that conversation was going to go differently, but Bucky obviously meant something different than Steve did. 

In the bathroom, Steve takes his clothes off and climbs into the shower, running only hot water. His skin turns red almost immediately, but it's the right balance of pain and relief. Soaping up his hands, Steve washes his hair and then his body, ignoring the heat pooling below his navel. He can't. Not with Bucky right across the hall. 

Frustrated, he gets out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. What can he say to Bucky to make this okay? He'd told the guy he loves him. And now they live together and Bucky is still recovering and Steve went and fucked everything up. Why can't he ever just keep his mouth shut?

Steve throws on a pair of track pants that were in the laundry basket and hangs his towel up. Then he throws his clothes in the basket and pads quietly back to his room, avoiding Bucky's still-shut door. If Bucky doesn't want to be bothered, Steve won't bother him. 

His stomach is churning, threatening to make him sick, and his head is pounding. It's just a lot right now, and so Steve doesn't really feel guilty when he rifles through his sock drawer and comes up with an old pack of Mavericks and some matches, walking out onto the balcony attached to his room. 

Steve never smoked before the war, obviously—asthma—but during, he would go for a smoke with Bucky or another one of the Commandos every now and then. It's calming, even though it's a disgusting habit. He lights a cigarette and takes a deep puff, letting the menthol settle in his lungs before exhaling. 

"Those things'll kill you," Bucky says from behind him, nearly making Steve jump out of his skin. "When did you start smoking?" he asks, coming to stand beside Steve and lean against the railing. 

"During the war," Steve replies, taking another drag. "You used to let me have some of yours. They calmed me down. Anxiety and whatnot." It's awkward and not at the same time. Steve is biting his tongue from saying anything, but then Bucky digs into Steve's pocket and steals a cigarette, lighting up with a lighter he produces from his own pocket. 

"I haven't had a smoke in . . . damn near seventy years," Bucky mutters. Steve looks over at him and raises an eyebrow. 

"They didn't let you smoke?" 

"Wanted their Asset in the best condition possible for missions," Bucky says. "Though, freezing someone for years and then electrocuting their brain doesn't vibe well with 'best condition possible.'" It's not said bitterly, just matter-of-fact. Steve doesn't say anything because he knows if he opens his mouth now, it's going to turn into a rant about how much he wants to annihilate Hydra for what they did to Bucky. "Wasn't always bad, though," Bucky murmurs, flicking the ashes off the end of his cigarette. "I got to go to a lot of really cool places. The only downside was that I was there to murder people." Okay now _that_ was said bitterly. 

"You always did want to travel," Steve murmurs. 

"Yeah." They stand in silence for a while and Steve flicks his cigarette away, watching the little red light falling down towards the streets of New York. "I don't know what I feel for you, Steve," Bucky says quietly. "I know that I loved you before the war. I know that, I can feel it. And I think I still love you. But there's the voice in the back of my head telling me that I can't trust myself with you. I could hurt you. I don't feel the urge to kill you every time I see you like I used to, but I also have nightmares. I almost killed one of the orderlies at the facility cause she was dropping off my meal while I was having a nightmare. And I thought she was Hydra." It's obvious how much it hurts him to talk about this. 

"Buck—" 

"No, Steve," Bucky says, flicking his cigarette out. "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you again. I almost killed you once. I won't put you in danger like that ever again." And Steve wants to say that they can take things slow, that they don't have to do anything Bucky wants to do, but he's frozen. 

He's frozen because Bucky loves him, because Bucky has loved him for his entire life and he never knew. He never knew his feelings for his best friend were returned.  

"I love you back, Stevie, I do," Bucky continues. "But I can't be with you. Not now. Not until I know I won't hurt you." 

"You won't hurt me," Steve whispers, moving into Bucky's space. "You won't, Buck. You know who I am now. You remember. You remember who you are and who I am and you wouldn't ever hurt me. You were my shield long before Howard Stark made me one out of vibranium." And Bucky kisses him then, cupping Steve's face with his flesh hand, leaving his metal one by his side. He pulls away just as quickly, taking a step back.  

"Okay." 

"Okay?" Steve asks, raising one eyebrow.  

"Okay," Bucky says again. "We're doing this. But I don't know if I can handle . . . everything." 

"You mean sex," Steve says, and Bucky shoves him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and jostling him a bit. It feels like old times. 

"Yeah, I mean sex. I don't know if I can . . . just give it some time, okay?" And Bucky looks down, like he's ashamed of that.  

"Don't," Steve murmurs, wrapping his arms around Bucky's waist. "I will wait for however long I have to. Because I love you." And Steve kisses him before leading him inside and to Steve's room. 

"Is it okay if I . . ."

"Sleep here?" Steve finishes. "Of course." And then they get into bed together, Bucky curled up against Steve like the world's most dangerous cat, and they just breathe for the longest time. 

" _Принадлежу,"_ Bucky murmurs, and Steve looks down at him. 

"Hmm?" he asks sleepily. He was almost asleep. 

"I belong here," Bucky explains, and Steve smiles. 

"You do." 

- 

Steve doesn't sleep that night, keeping a watchful eye on Bucky. The brunet had been tossing and turning for hours—asleep, but not deep enough to be restful. Steve really doesn't want to wake him unless he absolutely has to. Because even though Bucky isn't sleeping peacefully, it's still sleep. Which from what Steve had heard about the severity of Bucky's nightmares, is progress. 

And then Steve's alarm goes off and Bucky jerks awake, reaching for the gun he put on the bedside table.  

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "It was just my alarm." Bucky just looks at him for a moment, and then puts the gun back down and gets comfortable again. "So is it safe to say that that _alarmed_ you?" Steve jokes, and Bucky turns to stare at him. 

"That was . . . terrible," Bucky replies, breaking into sleepy laughter. 

"Got you to laugh," Steve reasons, and Bucky pokes him in the side. 

"Why the hell is your alarm going off at six in the morning?" Bucky asks, pulling the duvet over his shoulders.  

"I usually go running with Sam," Steve explains. "But I don't have to if you want me to stay." Bucky looks up at him for a moment, and then sits up. 

"Mind if I come?" 

"I was hoping you'd say that," Steve says, grinning. "I already cleared it, just in case." And Bucky smiles back, the whole time they're getting dressed. He's staring just a bit too much, and it makes Steve blush. 

"Hey," Bucky whispers, wrapping his arms around Steve. "You're perfect, okay?"

"If you say so," Steve whispers back. "C'mon, we're gonna be late." And Steve pulls Bucky out onto the street, keeping him close, hands clasped. 

"Won't we get shit for this?" Bucky asks, holding up their hands. Steve shrugs. 

"Maybe. But it's legal now, and hate crimes are taken fairly seriously, especially in New York. We'll probably get more shit for being Captain America and the Winter Soldier than for being together." And true to Steve's word, they get no less than ten people asking for autographs and they take selfies with every one of them. But the fun stops when a kid no older than five stops Bucky.  

"Excuse me, Mister Winter Soldier, sir," the kid says, tapping Bucky on the metal arm. Bucky turns around and looks down at the kid, half perplexed, half terrified. 

"Yeah, kiddo?" Bucky asks, crouching down to get on the kid's level. 

"I just got these stickers," the kid explains, showing Bucky a sheet of flower stickers. "My dads got them for me, and I was wondering if you'd like one. For your arm." And Steve stands perfectly still, waiting for Bucky to say something. 

"Oh, wow!" Bucky says, looking closer at the stickers. "Can I choose?" And the kid grins, handing over the stickers. 

"I like the blue ones, but you can have whichever you want."  

"Whaddya think, Stevie?" Bucky asks, showing Steve the stickers. 

"I like the purple one," Steve says, grinning. Bucky's so good with kids, always has been. 

"I'll take the purple one," he tells the kid, handing the stickers back. "Put it wherever you want, and then we can take a picture." And the kids dads come over, phone in hand to take a picture of all three of them, making sure to get the sticker on Bucky's metal arm in the shot. 

"Grant," one of the men introduces himself, shaking Steve's hand. "And my husband, Roy." He gestures to the man with Grant and Bucky, talking animatedly about the stickers. "Nice to meet you, Captain."

"Call me Steve," Steve says, shaking back.  

"Bucky here is James' hero," Grant explains, looking over at the two of them. "And it's nice to see we have some representation higher up." 

"Yeah, it's weird for us," Steve explains. "It being legal and all. But it's really, really nice not to have to hide anymore." And then Steve looks at his watch, and Sam is going to kill him because they're late, so Steve shakes Grant's hand again and high-fives James before continuing down to the park he and Sam like to run at. 

"That was . . . not expected," Bucky says, grinning. 

"Not everyone in this world is cruel," Steve replies. "I've found there are more accepting people than not." And before Bucky has a chance to reply, they find Sam. 

"Why are you so late?" Sam calls when he's about five yards away. "We were supposed to meet here at six-thir—oh." He just saw Bucky, and he shoots Steve a glance, but doesn't say anything. "C'mon," he says to both of them. "Gonna get my ass kicked double today." And Bucky shoots Steve a glance, but Steve just laughs, and they run.  

They jog around the park—well, Sam jogs while Steve and Bucky race—for about an hour before Sam suggests getting breakfast. 

"I know a great little diner right down the street," Sam says, corralling them down the sidewalk. People stare at them—why wouldn't they? They were all over the news—and Bucky grabs Steve's hand again. Sam sees, but doesn't say anything. Steve knows this is going to be a PR nightmare for Pepper, but he honestly doesn't care. If it grounds Bucky, then fuck what everyone else thinks. 

There's not much conversation while they eat—Steve and Bucky hadn't eaten last night--but on the walk back to the tower, after they've split with Sam—Bucky finally speaks.  

"I like him," he says, swinging his and Steve entwined hands.  

"Sam's a good friend," Steve replies, looking over at Bucky. 

"He takes care of you," Bucky murmurs, looking down. 

"Oh, you heard that?" Steve says, suddenly on edge. Before they left, Sam had pulled him aside and told him to be very careful with Bucky, to not let his guard down because Sam doesn't quite trust Bucky with Steve yet. 

"He's right, you know." And Steve pushes the door open and holds it for Bucky, before pushing the button for the elevator. "I could still snap. I could . . ." He trails off and Steve pulls him out of the elevator and onto the couch on their floor. 

"You won't," Steve says. "I have faith in you. And everyone is here for you; we're all on your side." And Bucky looks up at him with the stars in his eyes, hope welling over. "You're doing so well already. You don't have to be okay, but I want you to know how well you're doing. And that I'm so proud of you." And Bucky goes quiet for a moment before throwing his arms around Steve and holding him close. 

"Thank you," Bucky whispers. 

-

A month goes by and Steve is unofficially back to running point on missions with Natasha and Sam. They're small missions—mostly Intel—because between Bucky and Steve, most Hydra bases have been demolished. 

But Bucky still worries. Steve knows he worries. Even if he's only gone for the day, Bucky will text him every hour on the hour to make sure Steve is okay. It would be annoying if Steve didn't like it so much. 

Bucky still isn't eating as much as he should, and Tony and Bruce are worried that the weight loss will affect how much of a toll the arm takes on his body. He needs to be strong enough to bear it, and Steve can tell it's already hurting him. 

And that's when the topic of a new arm comes up. 

"All I'm saying is that I could make you a lighter, sleeker model," Tony is saying. "For free. More sensors, more sensation. But you'll be able to turn that off if you need it to, I don't know, slide it across asphalt." That pisses Steve off, and Tony immediately apologises. And Steve knows Tony means well, but Bucky is apprehensive about any kind of change, even if it's a change that will help him. Especially if it's a change that will help him. "Think about it?" Tony asks, batting his eyelashes, like that'll get Bucky to do what he wants. 

"Sure," Bucky says quietly, eyes on the ground. He looks extremely uncomfortable.  

"I think that's enough for today," Steve says, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend and pulling him close. Stark sends him a hard look—one that tells Steve all he needs to know. Bucky will be in severe pain if he doesn't either gain weight or let Tony build him a new arm. It's that simple. And Steve doesn't see Bucky changing his eating habits any time soon. 

Steve lets the arm thing drop, opting instead to distract Bucky with a History Channel special about Captain America's defrosting. Bucky loves watching shows about Steve, and Steve doesn't know why, but it doesn't matter because it makes Bucky happy. They're halfway through it when Bucky finally speaks. 

"I want the new arm." Just a whisper against Steve's neck, barely there, but there all the same.  

"Okay," Steve says, pressing a kiss to Bucky's hair. "We'll get Stark to draw up some plans. Well, I'm sure he's already working on it." And Steve sees Bucky roll his eyes, and they end up binge watching How To Get Away With Murder.  

-

A week later and Tony has the new arm done. It's still metal, still silver, but instead of the red star, a replica of Steve's shield is on the shoulder. Bucky likes it, Steve can tell. 

"I'm not gonna put you out," Tony is saying, "But I am going to give you some drugs and numb the area, okay?" And Bucky nods, but squeezes Steve's hand hard when he sees the needle. "Just relax, okay buddy?" And Stark eases the needle into Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky squeezes his eyes closed. Steve places a hand on his good shoulder, just steadying him.  

He's on a table like he was in Zola's lab and with Hydra, and he's getting his arm worked on and Steve can't chase away the demons. He wants to, but he can't. 

"Alright, the drugs should kick in in a minute," Tony says. "But I'm going to start taking the arm off. If you feel any pain, try not to punch me. Use your words." And Steve glares at Tony, but Bucky huffs a laugh, so Steve is grateful for the distraction. 

"I think this's hurting Steve more than me," Bucky murmurs. No one responds to that—Tony busy on the arm and Steve busy watching Bucky's face.  

"How do you feel, Buck?" Steve asks after a few minutes of silence. 

"Feel real good, Stevie. Everything's silver and sharp." And that's . . . not good.  

"Tony?" Steve asks.  

"He'll be fine. It's a lower dose of the anaesthesia they gave you back after you . . . after the helicarriers." Tony glances up at Steve and then looks back down, like he's worried he's said something wrong. 

And he hasn't, but Bucky takes it wrong.  

"I almost killed you," Bucky whispers. "They told me you were my mission and I tried to stab you and then I shot you and then you drowned." Bucky's eyes are welling up with tears—it's breaking his heart to see Bucky like this. "I—I fell from a train and lost my arm and now you're looking at me like you love me and I've wanted that my whole life but if you didn't have the serum I would've killed you." Bucky's almost in hysterics now, weakly trying to get his arm away from Tony. 

"I don't care what you do, just calm him down," Tony says, no room for disagreement. "I'm dealing with nerves that go directly to his brain. He needs to lie still." And so Steve presses Bucky back to the table and makes it so he can't see what Tony is doing to his arm. 

"Buck, just look at me," Steve says quietly. "Just look at me, nothing else matters." And Bucky turns his wide, terrified eyes onto Steve and his heart shatters. That's the way he looked back on the helicarrier. Steve never wanted to ever see that look on Bucky's face again. "I'm here. And you're here. And I love you, okay? Remember what we say?" Bucky shakes his head furiously, stops, and then nods. 

"Till the end of the line," Bucky whispers, almost choking on the words.  

"Till the end of the line," Steve repeats, nodding for emphasis. "I love you." And Bucky closes his eyes and nods, lips pressed into a thin line. "Stark, how are we doing on his arm?" Steve asks urgently. He needs this done so that Bucky can move, so that Steve can hold him and calm him down. 

"One more second . . . and done!" Tony says, dropping what was in his hands and pushing away from the table. "I'll uh . . . give you guys a minute." The door closes quietly, and then Steve takes Bucky into his arms and sits on the floor, cradling the sobbing brunet. 

"Bucky, listen to me," Steve says into his ear. "I would never think of holding any of that against you. It wasn't you and you didn't remember me. They hurt you, Buck. They hurt you and I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm so sorry I wasn't there." Steve takes a shaky breath, on the verge of tears himself, and keeps going. "But you're here now and I've got you. I've got you. You're mine now, and I'm gonna take care of you." Steve's out of words, so he just rocks Bucky gently and holds on tight. The metal hand is thrown around Steve's neck and the flesh hand is tangled in his shirt as Bucky calms down and relaxes. 

"S-Steve?" Bucky asks, visibly trying to keep his voice steady. 

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can we get pizza tonight?" Bucky gives him the smallest of smiles—the kind that's barely even there—and Steve wouldn't be able to deny him if he wanted to. 

"Of course, Buck." And Bucky leans up and kisses him, of his own accord, the first time he's initiated a kiss, and Steve feels like the luckiest man alive. 

-

The next morning, Steve wakes up and rolls over, expecting to be able to pull Bucky into his arms, but the other side of the bed is empty. That's not unusual, really—Bucky will sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and go watch TV, so Steve isn't worried. He's not running with Sam today, so he rolls back over and closes his eyes, trying to get some more sleep. 

It takes him about two minutes to realise falling back asleep is futile, and so he gets up and wanders into the kitchen.  

And finds Bucky making breakfast. 

"Well isn't this a nice surprise," Steve drawls, pulling up a stool to the breakfast bar. 

"You are supposed to be in bed," Bucky scolds. "Birthday boys should sleep in." Steve doesn't say anything, and he can tell Bucky is reading his face, the way Steve's shoulders are hunched, the exhaustion on his face. "Nightmares bothering you, too?" he asks casually, not making a big deal. 

"Yeah," Steve replies, dropping his chin into his hand. "Doesn't happen as much anymore." And Steve knows Bucky knows it's because they sleep together.  

"I know what you mean." And there's a beat of silence, and then Bucky slides a plate in front of him. "Bacon, pancakes, and my favourite--sausage." It's said so innocently, but Steve cracks up. "There's that smile." And the affection in Bucky's gaze is so intense that Steve just melts. 

"Thank you, Buck," Steve murmurs, tucking in as the brunet sidles up beside him with his own plate. 

"No eggs because I couldn't crack them without breaking them." 

"Getting used to the arm?" Steve asks around a mouthful of pancakes. 

"It's a lot more sensitive than the other one. A lot more sensors, which in theory should make things easier, but I've been used to almost no sensation in it for so long." Bucky clenches his metal arm into a fist, shrugs, and then continues eating. 

"Do you like it?" Steve asks. "Is the more sensation a good thing?" 

"Well yeah," Bucky says, looking over at Steve with a smirk. "I never used to be able to feel textures, and now I can. It's lighter, so it doesn't hurt to use it like it used to. Stark did good." Steve is about to comment on that, but Bucky flashes him a stern look. "Don't ever tell him I said that." 

"Sure," Steve laughs, finishing off his food and taking his plate to the sink. "There's something I've been meaning to do for a while, but we never had the time." Bucky looks up, perplexed, and Steve takes him empty plate and washes that, too. "I know you've been wearing my clothes, but I thought you might want some of your own? Well, Pepper thought that. She gave us some money to go get you some clothes and stuff."

"That means going out," Bucky says slowly, and Steve nods. "Okay. I think I can do that. Just . . . don't leave me alone, okay? I need you in my sight at all times." 

"Of course. I'll be right there with you the whole time." Steve means that, and Bucky can see that Steve means that, so he nods. 

It's still fairly early on a Tuesday in Times Square, so there aren't as many people out and about. Bucky is tense, but not completely rigid, and Steve sees that as a win. They're holding hands, something that Steve has gotten used to being able to do now, and it's something that grounds Bucky. Especially when Steve holds onto the metal hand, which he's been doing since Bucky got the new arm. He says that it helps him not completely hate the arm now that he can feel with it.  

They shop for a while, getting Bucky some new jeans—black and skinny cut that make his ass look phenomenal—and some shirts. A pair of black combat boots. There's a pattern here. And then he sees the jacket. Black leather with a ton of zippers, and looks over at Steve with big puppy dog eyes. 

"Well, go get it," Steve prompts, and Bucky grins. They check out and are headed to find a taxi, Steve's arm around Bucky's waist, when there's a holler from behind them.  

"Didn't know Captain America was gay!" the person calls, and Steve ignores it. Bucky tenses visibly, ready for a fight.  

"Shh," Steve soothes, tightening his grip.  

"Guess people will take any faggot into the army these days," the person says again, and Bucky stops. Steve stops beside him, and God does Bucky look furious. They turn around to see a middle-aged white man in a nice suit just staring at them. Typical. 

"Can I help you with something?" Steve asks politely, analysing the situation. The man says nothing, like he didn't think Steve was going to react. They've drawn a crowd now, phones out and recording. "I didn't think so," Steve continues. "Next time you holler at someone you don't know on the street, think twice." Steve sends him a menacing grin. "And for the record, I'm bisexual." And with that, Steve hails a taxi and they get in silently, leaving the man dumbfounded on the street and most of the crowd clapping.  

The ride back is quiet, neither one of them speaking. Steve pays the driver and they get out, carrying all the bags into the elevator and then into their room. Steve starts putting things away, but Bucky just stands in the doorway.  

"Buck," Steve murmurs, putting down the shirt he was about to hang up and walking over to the brunet. "It doesn't mean anything."

"I know," Bucky says. "I just . . . when you said it was legal now, I didn't think this would happen anymore." He looks so sad, and Steve wants more than anything to fix this. "We could still get hurt for this. I know how to use the Internet, Steve."  

"We can't change who we are, Buck. Believe me, I tried back in the thirties. But I love you, and I wouldn't ever want that to change." Steve touches his hand to Bucky's face, coaxing it up so Steve can kiss him. 

"Okay," Bucky whispers. 

"Okay?" Steve asks. 

"Yeah, I'm good." And then Bucky starts to help Steve put things away, bumping hips and touching shoulders. 

Tony holds a party—just them and close friends. Even Nick shows up for a bit. Steve gets a ton of gifts, but opts to open them later. They watch fireworks from the roof, and Steve can see that all the social interaction is exhausting Bucky, so he begs off. 

"He's my first priority," Steve tells Natasha. She gets it, and it feels so good to have her understand. 

Everyone needs a friend who understands. 

As soon as Bucky gets Steve into the elevator, he's got Steve pinned up against the wall, bodies aligned, kissing him with abandon. Steve is startled for a moment, but then he melts into it. Bucky turns them so Steve is pressing up against him, and then uses the metal hand to place one of Steve's hands over his throat while using the other hand to slam into the emergency stop button on the elevator. They come to a halt, and Steve looks at Bucky. 

He nods, and Steve grins, diving back in and rocking his hips against Bucky's. He clutches Bucky's throat gently at first, but then Bucky pushes on Steve's hand, cutting off more of his air. Steve takes that as a green light and clenches his fist so that Bucky can breathe, but it's difficult. 

Bucky's dick is scraping over Steve's in the most delicious ways and Steve moans quietly. He's going to come in his pants like a teenager, and he doesn't give a fuck because it's _Bucky_. It's _Bucky_ making him feel like this.  

The brunet suddenly tenses and let's out a strangled moan, and Steve knows that means he's coming. Steve can feel the wetness through their pants, and Bucky kisses down Steve's neck, biting down over his collarbone. And Steve throws his head back and comes hot and wet in his pants.  

Somewhere between waves of pleasure, Steve feels the elevator start going up, and Bucky straightens up. He's tense, and when Steve opens his eyes, Bucky is completely expressionless. And that's not right. 

Steve tries to ask, tries to form words around his too-dry mouth, but as soon as they get to their floor, Bucky darts off, leaving Steve with a head full of questions. 

-

Bucky isn't speaking to Steve. When they'd gotten back to their floor, Bucky had gone straight into his room and locked the door. Steve had tried talking to him, tried knocking on the door. He doesn't want to break it down, so he's sitting against the wall next to it with his head tipped back, just waiting. He can hear Bucky trying to conceal his sobs, trying to be quiet about it, but Steve can hear it like Bucky's right next to him. 

And what Steve hears is Bucky in pain. Bucky feeling alone and scared and hurt and he won't let Steve in. Won't even let Steve just be there for him. Just to sit next to him and hold his hand and stroke his hair and be an anchor. 

"Buck, just let me in," Steve pleads again. "I just need to know you're okay." Silence. 

Steve doesn't know what this is about. Is it the going out? Was it the homophobic guy on the street? Was it the party?

Or has Steve pressured Bucky into doing something he didn't want? 

 _Oh god_ , Steve thinks. Because that's the last thing he ever wanted to do. To hurt Bucky, to make him feel unsafe. Steve stands up and knocks on the door again, leaving his palm pressed to the cool wood and leans his forehead against it, tears pricking his eyes. 

Steve's breath hitches, forces his lungs to fill and his broken heart to beat. 

"Oh god, did I hurt you?" Steve asks. "Are you hurt? Please, Bucky, just talk to me. Tell me what I did—how I can fix it. Buck, please." Still nothing. "I'm sorry, Bucky. I'm so fucking sorry. I never meant to hurt you." Finally, Steve hears silence in the room, and then the door is unlocked and Steve has two armfuls of Bucky Barnes crashing into him, knocking him over and into the wall behind him. He's pretty sure they've dented it.  

"Steve," Bucky chokes out, and Steve is helpless. He just holds Bucky, his mind running a million miles a minute trying to catch up. 

"Are you hurt?" Steve asks again. Bucky shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again. "Okay . . ." Steve says, not sure what that means. "Do you want me to leave?" And that is answered with Bucky's arms tightening around Steve and a fierce shake of his head. "What's wrong, Bucky?" Steve asks, softer this time, concealing his panic. Bucky sniffles and presses his face into Steve's neck. 

"Steve—I . . ." That's all Bucky gets out before another sob wracks his body, and Steve lowers them to the ground, situating Bucky in his lap. Bucky had initiated, but had Steve taken it too far? He tries to think about what they'd just done, about the situation and why Bucky would kiss him like that at that moment. But nothing makes sense. 

And then it hits Steve right in the face.  

Fourth of July.  

The fireworks. 

"Bucky," Steve breathes, threading his hands through Bucky's hair and kissing the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, baby. You could have said something. I should have known. I'm so sorry." And he cries with Bucky now, unable to stop it. He should have known better. He did know better. He can't let things like this slip his mind. He _can't_. Not with Bucky. Never with Bucky. 

And then Steve went and took advantage when he should have seen how scared Bucky looked.  

"It sounded like guns," Bucky whispers. "Like my guns. And there were people yelling and there were bright lights and I couldn't get out of my head. All I saw was my hands and my guns murdering people. I couldn't get words out. I couldn't leave. I couldn't move." And Bucky looks up at Steve, fresh tears running down his face. "I'm sorry," he chokes out, body shaking. 

"Don't you _ever_ be sorry for that," Steve says sternly, but not unkindly. Steve holds him through it, stroking his hair and telling him _it's not your fault, I love you so much, you've done so well, this isn't a setback, you're getting so much better, I'm right here and I'm not leaving, not ever_.  

Bucky's sobs turn to sniffles, then little hiccups. When he's finally cried out, Steve looks down. He goes to place a hand on Bucky's cheek, but the brunet flinches away, and Steve freezes. No matter how expected, that hurt.  

And Steve doesn't know what he'll do if Bucky doesn't want him anymore. If Bucky wakes up the next morning and is angry with him. If Bucky pushes him away. 

"If you want me to go . . ." Steve trails off, voice breaking. He swallows loudly, and tries again. "It'll kill me, but I'll go. I should have known better." And Bucky jerks at that, looking up at Steve with such horror in his eyes that it paralyses Steve.

"This isn't your fault, Stevie," Bucky says, voice scratchy. "I forgot about fireworks. I . . . I didn't think." And Steve doesn't blame shift, doesn't see the point in the back and forth. He just lets it become something that neither of them thought of. A fluke, a mistake. Something that Steve catalogues in the back of his mind to remember for next time. 

"You need anything?" Steve asks. "Water?" And Bucky nods, so Steve pulls them up and tells Bucky to get in bed while Steve retrieves the water from the fridge. When Steve hands it to Bucky, he drains it gratefully and makes grabby hands at Steve until he gets into bed and allows Bucky to curl up against him. 

So things aren't perfect, and Bucky wasn't magically healed, but they went out today. In public. As a couple. And that's all Steve can ask Bucky for. 

Baby steps.  

-

Today, Bucky and Steve start training together. SHIELD (Nick Fury) wants them to be partners in the field. He wants Bucky to join the Avengers. Steve had been apprehensive about it when Nick first brought it up, but then Bucky had said he wanted to do it.  

"Natasha says the only way to get over all the bad that I've done is to balance it with good." Bucky told Steve, and they left it at that. 

But now they're on the mats on the training floor and Bucky won't move.  

"You won't hurt me," Steve reassures him. "I'm stronger than you think." 

"I almost killed you before," Bucky says quietly, not breaking eye contact. 

"You know who I am now," Steve reasons. "You would never hurt me." And that seems to work, and Bucky advances. 

They exchange blows, working without the shield first and then with it, tossing it back and forth. They've known each other for so long that they can anticipate the other's movements easily, and they move with a fluid grace that Steve hasn't experienced with any other person. 

Bucky is the right partner. 

Steve pins Bucky down, but the brunet uses the metal arm to shove Steve away, jumping back on his feet. As Steve gets close, Bucky crouches down, placing his shoulder into Steve's abdomen and grabbing one of Steve's outstretched arms. In one deft movement, he straightens up and tosses Steve over him, making Steve land on his back. Hard. It knocks the breath out of him and then Bucky has him trapped between strong thighs, hands pinning Steve's wrists above his head.  

They're both breathing heavily, Bucky's hair falling down into his face. He's beautiful. And when Steve reaches up for a kiss, Bucky meets him half way. 

-

The next day, Steve and Bucky are training with the shield—how to move, how to work together with it. Tony has donated his Iron Legion to the cause, allowing Bucky and Steve to dismember the robots for the sake of training. 

They're on one side of the training centre, and Tony has programmed the robots to come at them, to maim, not kill. So it's not completely realistic, but it works. All they have is the shield and their battle suits to protect themselves from the laser blasts, and they move as one. 

They already know how to work together, but this helps them perfect their movements. Steve will throw the shield, knocking three or four of the robots down and Bucky catches it, smashing it down into one of the drone's chest, sparks flying, and then tosses it back to Steve just in time for Steve to block a blast, sending it rebounding to the robot that fired it.

When Bucky has the shield, Steve literally rips the things apart. Their heads, their arms—anything he can get ahold of. He can feel it bruising his fingers, but it never breaks the skin.  

Bucky does the same while Steve has the shield. He does, however, have the advantage of turning the sensitivity all the way off on the metal arm, making it easier for him to rip the drone's bodies apart. It's actually kind of hot to watch. 

When all of the Iron Legion is down, Natasha and Clint come in to give Bucky and Steve some more realistic training. Clint's arrows are rubber-tipped--enough to cause pain, but not to pierce their suits. Natasha's guns have stun bullets. They hurt and they're enough to cause mild irritation to Steve and Bucky, but it won't kill them.  

So they go at it, Steve and Bucky tossing the shield effortlessly between themselves while Clint and Natasha try to take them down. They're really no match for two super soldiers, but it's training, so it's all they have. Natasha gets Steve pinned, but Bucky pulls her off, tossing her across the room. She flips herself over so that she lands in a crouch and fires at Bucky, the stunner sticking to his shoulder. The brunet doesn't even flinch, picking the thing out in mild annoyance. 

"Enough," Clint says, putting his bow down by his side. "There's nothing else we can do for you." Natasha straightens up and Steve lowers the shield. 

"You two work well together," Natasha says, going to grab a bottle of water and tossing another one to Steve. He drains half of it and hands it over to Bucky. 

"Well, we did fight a war together," Steve says dryly, and Natasha smirks at him. "We don't really need practise." 

"Everyone needs practise, Steve," Natasha calls over her shoulder, sauntering towards the door. Steve laughs, and Bucky looks at him, a question in his eyes.  

"I'll tell you later," Steve says, still laughing. Clint follows her out, and Bucky looks over at Steve again. He looks . . . concerned?

"What?" Steve asks him, and Bucky comes closer. 

"You're reckless," Bucky murmurs. "You don't protect your flanks. You're too worried about me, making sure I'm okay. You need to trust that I know what I'm doing." And Steve knows he's right. 

"Habit, I guess," Steve replies. "I do trust you, Buck. But I'll always worry." And Bucky kisses him, running his metal fingers through Steve's hair. 

"You can worry all you want," Bucky whispers. "Just watch out for yourself, too." And Steve takes his hand. Squeezes. Pulls him into the elevator and back up to their room. Watching Bucky fight does something to Steve. Something that makes him want to pin Bucky to the bed and fuck him until he's a sweaty, writhing mess. But he opts for a shower, rubbing Bucky down while respecting his boundaries. 

It's good enough. For now. 

-

The next week, Bucky and Steve go on their first mission together. They're sent to upstate New York with the rest of the Avengers to take down the biggest Hydra base in the U.S.  The only reason the Avengers hadn't been sent in before is because the entire base is underground and Fury needed some time to figure out a plan. They can't just bomb the place—that was a hard _no_ for Steve. Some of those people have been down there for so long that they don't know what's been happening. Because the techs, according to Fury's information, live down there. They don't have any outside communication. So Hydra probably kept the info dump Natasha did away from them. 

Coming from Hydra, that's not surprising. 

Because there are a lot of people that the FBI didn't get. There are a lot of dormant agents and sleeper cells around that Fury is finding out from his people. And that's the Avenger's concern right now. Take out the bases and Hyrda will have no where to go. Take out as many as they can and try to keep them from organising. 

They're flying in the jet—Clint piloting with Natasha in the copilot seat. Steve and Bucky are in the back, thighs, knees, and shoulders touching. They're holding hands under where their knees are bent, but Bucky isn't comfortable with a lot of public displays of affection. And that's quite alright with Steve because he really isn't either. Not after how much he got beat up when he was younger. 

Bucky's knee is bouncing nervously, and he looks so on edge that Steve places a hand on his knee to stop it. Bucky looks over at him, face set in stone, but eyes telling Steve all he needs to know.  

"We'll be fine, Buck," Steve soothes, throwing an arm around the brunet and pulling him close. He's not holding Bucky there, just an arm loosely over his shoulders. Bucky makes the decision to lean into Steve, to place his head on Steve's shoulder and rest there. 

"Ten minutes out," Clint says, and that's Steve and Bucky's cue. They get up and make their way to the exit, the door opening slowly. Steve can see Tony flying around above them, checking the area for scouts. 

"All clear," Tony says through the comm piece in all of their ears. "Ready to go, Capsicle." Steve gets a good handle on his shield and looks over at Bucky, who's pulling a parachute on. Steve never uses parachutes, so he gets ready to go without one. 

"Put your damn parachute on or so help me God," Bucky growls. And Steve grins, doing as he says. 

"Time to work for a living," Tony says, and they jump. 

The decent is very controlled—Steve and Bucky know what they're doing—and it's a soft landing, both of them shrugging the chutes off and quickly falling into stance, Bucky covering Steve's six. 

"We're on the ground," Steve says quietly. It doesn't look like much, just some trees and some grass and a small innocuous building. 

"Alright. Get in and out as fast as you can," Clint says. "Save all the people you can, take down those you can't. It's gonna be a bloodbath." And Steve looks over at Bucky who no longer looks nervous. He's got cold determination on his face and Steve stops to squeeze his hand. 

"I love you," Steve mouths, and Bucky mouths it right back. And they go in through a broken window, landing silently. Steve's got his shield up while Bucky's got his gun out and ready to go, but there's no one in the building. "We're clear here," Steve says. "Send Nat and Clint in." And as Steve and Bucky look around for a door, Tony lands beside them in his suit. 

"JARVIS, scan the room," he says. There's a red light illuminating the room for about ten seconds before it disappears.  

"The wall to your left. I'm reading steel reinforcement and an air current," JARVIS says, and they head that way.  

"Please be a secret door, please be a secret door, please be a secret door," Tony mutters, and pushes on the wall. It swings open. "Yay!" Bucky looks over at Steve and rolls his eyes and Steve grins.  

"Alright," Steve says. "Bucky and I will get people out. Stark, clear a path as quietly as possible. We don't want to alert them of our presence until Nat and Clint are done planting the explosives." 

"Yes, sir, Captain America, sir," Tony says, saluting Steve and taking off. Steve and Bucky go room by room, checking for signs of anyone. 

"There's an elevator at the end of the hall," Tony says. "I'm on my way down through the chute. You guys come down in five minutes." 

"We're in, Cap," Clint says over the comm. 

"We're clear so far," Steve replies, gesturing for Bucky to check the last few rooms. "Coming down, Stark," Steve says.  

"Ran into some guards," Tony said. "Took care of it." Steve goes to the elevator and they get in, going down. When the doors open, they're met with a dark hallway only lit by small lights on the walls. Steve gets out first, Bucky covering him, and walks forward. "There's a tech room five doors down on your left full of people," Stark informs them. "JARVIS says no weapons or alarms are in the room." And so they head down the hall and open the door. All eyes turn to them. 

"If you want to live, get out now," Steve orders. "Leave everything you have on you and get out. Silently." People immediately start fleeing, but some of them are trying to delete files on the computers. 

And Bucky shoots them. 

Not exactly what Steve would have recommended, but they probably don't know much to help them anyway. At least he has a silencer so it wasn't loud. Nothing draws attention like gunshots.  

"Clear," Steve says.  

"Guards coming your way," Tony warns him. "How are the explosives coming, Barton?" 

"Two in place on the ground floor," Clint reports. "Heading down." Steve can hear a commotion in the background like shuffling feet and muted whispers. "Bruce is in to make sure everyone gets out."  

"Good," Steve says. "Second floor cleared," Steve says. 

"Head down the stairs on your right," Tony says. "Haven't encountered any guards yet." And that puts Steve on the defensive. This base has to have more people in it, right? But they take the stairs and clear that hall room by room, getting cooperative people out where they can and killing those who refuse. It's dirty work, and Steve knows this brings ugly memories back for Bucky, but they have to. And Steve won't question him. 

"Clear," Steve says. "Natasha, what's your status?" 

"Just got to the second floor," she says. 

"Only putting one down here," Clint chimes in. "Right in the middle." 

"Be as quick as you can," Steve replies. They're pressed for time. It's already been seven minutes. 

"Fourth floor is clear. Going to the fifth—shit!" There are gunshots coming over the comm "A little help down here," Tony says. "They've been waiting on the fourth." And Bucky and Steve sprint to the next flight of stairs. 

"Clint, Natasha, skip and go straight down to the fifth," Steve orders. They need to get out of here. Now. "Set the rest down there. And get out." They burst into the fourth floor to see Tony taking on no less than thirty armed Hydra agents. So Bucky and Steve jump in, doing what they can to get them off of Tony. 

"Five minutes!" Clint calls cover the comm. There are more guards coming from the other side of them and they're trapped and Steve doesn't know if they can make it five minutes.  Steve take a bullet to his thigh and fathers, then throws the shield back behind him. It takes out two guards before rebounding and magnetising to Bucky's arm. He uses it to bash a guard's head in and then tosses it back to Steve. They won't be able to get out and all Steve can think is that he has to get Bucky out before this place blows. 

Steve's chest tightens and his breath gets fast and shallow. He can't lose Bucky again. Can't watch him die. Steve has to get Bucky out now. 

And that's when he feels the searing pain in his side. He'd gotten distracted and on the verge of an anxiety attack and forgotten to raise the shield. He'd been hit by one of the Hydra guns. And Jesus fucking Christ does it hurt. It feels like his skin is on fire. 

" _Steve!_ " Tony calls when Steve falls to the ground. He's on his knees, trying to lift the shield. And then he looks over at Bucky and Bucky is distracted, continuously looking over at Steve. And Steve throws his shield out, taking out at least five of the agents. 

"Natasha!" Steve yells into the comm. 

"Two minutes until the fifth floor blows," Clint replies. "Get out of there. Barricade the doors to the stairs—we shut off the elevator. And Steve?"

"Yeah?" 

"Run like hell." And so Steve runs for the doors while Tony and Bucky hold them off. Steve keeps one side of the doors open with his foot while he rips the rail of the stairs out and uses it to barricade the closed side. He leaves room in the rail to do the other side. 

"Come on!" Steve yells at Bucky and Tony. There are only about ten guards left but they're chasing after them. Tony falls back to pick Bucky up and zoom inside past Steve. He twists the rail through the door handles and then sprints up the stairs. Bucky and Tony are a few feet ahead of him, running for the next door down the hall.  

"Cap, duck!" Tony says, and Steve crouches and keeps running. A split second later, three more of the guards fall. Catching up to Bucky,  he knows the brunet can tell Steve is limping. He feels like his whole body is on fire from where he got hit. But Bucky just throws an arm around his waist and allows Steve to lean on him. 

They get up to the second floor before the fifth floor blows. They can feel the ground shaking and they pick up the pace. But then they pass a room, and Bucky stops short. There's no one chasing them anymore—no reason to stop.  

Until he looks into the room.  

The chair and machine they used to wipe him. 

 _Oh god_. 

"Buck, we gotta go!" Steve yells as the ground shakes. And Bucky snaps out of it, taking Steve's hand and running for the last set of stairs. Steve almost trips going up the stairs, but Bucky is there to hold him up. He's bleeding—he can feel the warm wetness from his thigh and side soaking into his suit—but Bucky is taking most of his weight with the metal arm wrapped securely around his waist. 

"Twenty seconds, Steve," Tony warns as they burst into the dark night. "Run as fast as you can and get away from there." They hit the trees and keep running, faster than Steve has ever run, until the building blows behind them. Steve can feel the heat against his back, but they keep running until they find the others a half a mile into the trees. 

As soon as they stop running, Steve drops to his knees. 

"Barnes, get him in the jet!" Tony yells, and Bucky lifts Steve with one arm around his shoulders and one behind his knees. And God does that hurt. Steve thinks he lets out a little cry of pain. 

"Gonna take care of you, Stevie," Bucky says as he carries Steve into the jet. "You're gonna be fine." And there's a commotion and Bucky yells, "Banner!" Steve's eyes are closed, but someone is tearing his uniform off. Steve's entire body clenches as the suit rips off the tentative scabs.  

"We gotta get him back to the tower," Bruce says. And then quieter, he says, "It's not good, Bucky." 

"Buck," Steve whispers and he forces his eyes open. Bucky's face is right above his and God, he looks terrified. 

"It's okay Stevie," Bucky says. "You're gonna be fine."  

"Hurts," Steve chokes out, coughing harshly. The metallic tang of blood touches his taste buds, and he knows it's bad. 

"I know, baby," Bucky whispers. "But I'm gonna take care of you." 

"Steve," Bruce says, "I've got to dig the bullet out, then I'm going to wrap up your leg and your side. It's going to hurt." Steve cranes his neck to see Bruce, and nods.  

And . . . well, he wasn't wrong because the pain hits him hard and his vision goes dark. 

-

James Buchanan Barnes watches over his Stevie as he sleeps. James will not allow Stevie to die. He cannot die without knowing how James feels about him. 

It would be one of the great injustices in the world.  

-

James Buchanan Barnes cannot sleep. When he tries, he dreams of the chair. When he tries, he can feel the cold of the cryofreeze in his bones. When he tries, he can still feel his handlers hands on him—the wrongness of it. James is glad that the Hydra building has been destroyed. He wanted to slit throats and bathe in the blood of the men and women that did him wrong, that caused Steve so much pain. That hurt Steve. 

But Steve did not want that. Steve wanted to get the innocents out. And that may be Steve's problem. 

He thought they were innocent. 

James knows they are not. 

-

It's dark and cold and Steve is alone here in the abyss of his mind. He tries to kick to the surface, to tread water, but it's like there are weights chained to his ankles, dragging him down. 

He hears voices, but can't understand the words. It's too hard to fight, too much. So Steve lets go and falls back into the darkness.  

-

The room is dark when Steve wakes up. Nighttime or early morning. It's just on the right side of warm, the way Steve likes it. He doesn't hurt anymore, not really. There's a familiar ache in his bones that he gets when the serum heals him, but Steve knows that is a good thing.  

There's a faint trace of peppermint in the air, like toothpaste, and Steve realises that someone is very close to him. Someone who uses the same toothpaste as Steve. 

And that can only be Bucky. 

"Buck?" Steve asks, just to make sure. And sure enough, Bucky's face swims in Steve's view—blurry around the edges but getting sharper as Steve blinks. 

"Stevie?" Bucky asks, tone coloured with worry. Steve moves so that he's curled up on Bucky's chest. 

"Bucky," Steve says again, and he shakes for a moment, so glad that he's alive.  

"I'm right here, baby," Bucky croons, petting Steve's hair. "You're okay." Steve's body aches like it always does after the serum heals him, but he's not in any real pain anymore. "You had me worried for a minute there," Bucky murmurs, dropping a kiss to Steve's hair. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be, sweetheart." Bucky moves so that he can look at Steve, and then he smiles. "You're here with me and you're fine and I'm fine and I love you so fucking much." 

"You saw the chair," Steve whispers, and Bucky stiffens. "You don't have to tell me, but I just wanna make sure you're okay and that you know you're safe now." Steve and Bucky look at each other silently for a very long time as Bucky's jaw works like he's trying to form words. 

"I think . . . I'm okay," he says slowly. Steve cocks his head, inviting more. "I think I'll always have nightmares about it. But I'm here with you now and I'm doing some good." 

"If you ever want to talk about it . . . You know I read your file, but if you want to talk about any of it with me, I'll listen." Steve pulls him close and holds him, trying to will the feeling of safety onto him.  

"They . . . hurt me," Bucky murmurs. "In every way you can imagine and more. They tried to burn me out of my own head, and it worked to a point. I was still there in the beginning, but the more they wiped me, the more the part of my mind that was me disappeared. But . . . they could never take you completely out of me. You were my anchor. I used to dream about you, I think. When I was in cryo. And then when you said my name, I started to remember. They had had me out of cryo too long, and they knew it. 

"So they wiped me again and sent me back to finish the mission, but the seed of doubt was still there. I knew my handlers weren't good people, but I also knew they would hurt me if I didn't kill you. It was . . . they abused me. Brock Rumlow especially.  

"But I know I'm okay now, that you won't let them get to me. It's just . . . when I saw that chair, I saw red. I wanted to kill everyone in the building. I wanted to make it slow and painful. I wanted to make them pay and paint their blood on the walls. 

"But the best way to make them pay is to overcome it. That's what my therapist says. That if they see that I'm doing well and recovering, that their Asset is gone and replaced by James Buchanan Barnes, that it'll make them angry. It'll mean that they failed. They never really changed me, not completely. They failed." 

Steve is in awe of Bucky. He's amazed at Bucky's strength and determination. But he also wishes that he could personally rip Rumlow's throat out. 

"I love you," Steve whispers. "You're amazing." The brunet gives him a small smile. 

"You're the reason they couldn't ever completely control me. Because I loved you. And they couldn't take that away." And Bucky is smiling softly at him and Steve just smiles back. "I love you," Bucky says, a hint of finality in is voice, and Steve rejoices that he has this back. "C'mere," Bucky whispers, bringing Steve's face up so he can kiss him. 

It gets heated fast—all the emotions in the room poured into one kiss. It's all tongue and teeth and Bucky rolls so he's situated between Steve's legs and he's hard. It takes all of Steve's control to not rut up against him. Bucky kisses a scorching path down Steve's neck and onto his bare chest, laving at his collar bones. 

Steve chokes on a moan when Bucky sucks on his nipple, biting it and then soothing over it with his tongue. Steve still isn't sure how far Bucky wants this to go, but Steve won't complain either way. He's putty in Bucky's hands. 

"I think I'm ready," Bucky murmurs against Steve's neck. And Steve doesn't even have to ask. He knows exactly what Bucky is talking about. So he nods, moving his head so he can catch Bucky's lips in a kiss. 

"You control this, okay?" Steve asks. "You say stop, we stop. No questions asked." And Steve looks at him until he sees the nod, and then he pulls Bucky's shirt over his head. And Bucky ducks his head to kiss Steve's neck, but it feels to Steve like Bucky's hiding. Hiding from what Steve thinks of his body. Of his arm. "You're beautiful," Steve whispers, leaning in to kiss along the scar tissue. Bucky freezes, sucking in a breath. And then Steve kisses down the arm, and Bucky loses it. 

He slams Steve into the bed and crushes their mouths together while he works Steve's pants down. He doesn't let up on Steve's mouth until he has to move to get Steve's pants off his ankles. After a bit of searching, Steve winds the waistband of Bucky's pants with his feet and nudges, letting Bucky know he wants them off. 

So Bucky pulls away, trapping Steve with only his eyes, and undoes the button of his jeans. And Steve knows that Bucky is one-hundred per scent in control right now and that Steve isn't to do anything until Bucky says. It's like the old days when Bucky would lecture Steve and Steve felt secretly turned on at Bucky telling him what to do. 

But it's not a secret anymore. 

And Bucky knows it because he smirks down at Steve, getting his pants off and slowly laying his body over Steve's. And sure, they've been this close before, but never like this—romantically, sexually. And it's every wet dream and fantasy Steve'd had growing up. It's his now. Bucky is Steve's and Steve is Bucky's and they're breathing each other's air and in each other's space and Steve can feel Bucky's finger breach that tight ring of muscle and he's lost. 

He can feel sensations, can hear Bucky speaking to him, but he doesn't process it. All he cares about is Bucky telling him he's good, that Steve is good and he's Bucky's good boy. And when Bucky gives it to him, when Steve begs,

"Tell me I'm good," and when Bucky tells him, Steve comes from that—three fingers in his ass and Bucky telling him he's good. 

"So that works," Bucky mutters, and Steve laughs off the awkwardness and pulls Bucky down into a kiss. 

They figure it out as they go. Steve figures Bucky will be more comfortable topping, where no one is pinning him down, and he's right. Steve prefers bottoming anyway. It's better this way. Steve gets to see Bucky's face when he bottoms out—eyes squeezed shut and body tense like he wants to move but is giving Steve time to adjust. 

Well, Steve doesn't want that. 

So he lifts his hips, pulling Bucky in a little deeper, and lets out a whine. Bucky, who knows all of Steve's facial expressions and can tell what Steve is going to say with just a glance, catches on and begins to move. 

It's not rough, exactly, but it's not gentle either. It's give and take, but Bucky remains in control. And Steve continues to like it. Because Bucky will slow down and get real close to Steve and murmur praise into Steve's ear: you're so good Stevie, you're being so good for me, taking me so well. Steve preens under it, content to do whatever makes Bucky happiest. 

Bucky comes first, hands going under Steve's shoulders to hold him close, fucking him through it. Their eyes lock, and Bucky nods just once, but Steve knows. And he comes again between their bodies. He thinks he cries out, thinks maybe he's leaving marks on Bucky's back from his nails, but the brunet doesn't seem to mind. In fact, Bucky seems to like it. 

Bucky relaxes on top of him, softening cock still inside Steve, and peppers kisses on Steve's face, neck, and chest. Steve absolutely glows under the attention, his whole body radiating pure pleasure at the affection Bucky is bestowing upon him.  

Steve is coming out of it slowly as Bucky moves and goes into the bathroom to grab a cloth. Steve whines at the lack of heat around him, but doesn't do much more than that. His body doesn't feel like his own, like he's floating, but coming back down to earth. He still hasn't been able to open his eyes. It just feels too good right now. 

Bucky comes back and cleans them up before climbing back into bed beside Steve. Bucky strokes his hair for a long time, just letting Steve come back.  

"You need anything?" Bucky asks, and Steve shakes his head. "Drink some water, baby," Bucky murmurs, pressing a water bottle into Steve's hand. He drains it gratefully and then snuggles back into Bucky's arms. Bucky just chuckles and holds him closer, pulling the comforter over their shoulders. "You okay, there, Stevie?"

"Mmh," Steve groans, stretching out his arms also legs, hearing the joints pop. "I'm good. Real good, Buck." Steve grins up at the brunet and Bucky grants him a kiss.  

"How's that for ready?" Bucky teases, and Steve gets serious. 

"You're okay?" Steve asks. "It didn't bring anything back?" And Bucky's face falls. Steve kicks himself for ruining the moment, but he needs to know. 

"Of course it did," Bucky murmurs. "But it's good. With you." He takes a breath, pulling Steve as close as possible. "I think, with time, I'll stop reliving it. I'll stop . . . being anxious about it. Like I said, it's good with you. I've never had this before." And that makes Steve the happiest he's ever been. That Steve can be Bucky's safe place. That Steve can help Bucky to get past his demons. They'll never go away, not really, but they can be strong together. They've been through so much.  

They deserve that. 

To be together, to be happy. After seventy years of ice and loneliness and anger and abuse and hurt and wars, they deserve that much. And when Steve looks at Bucky, he sees his whole world. And when Bucky kisses him, Steve has finally found his place in this century—next to Bucky, like it's always been. 


End file.
